Your Bob Dylan Hair Cut.

Your Bob Dylan hair cut

It cuts like a blade

Yours was ‘Yours Truly’

Tho I felt it was a fiction

One man leant over the hill

While another pulled at the ears

This is what Gay Love really is

A threesome in a hotel in a city

Where the light burns brightest before the dawn

Your Spanish Lorca smile

It paid for the rent

Yours was a magnified existence

Tho it never made the paper

One dead actor hung from the wall

Guilt was a bum that never asked for change

At the very least a death by déjà vu

This is what optimism really is

A threesome in a hotel in a city

Where the actresses always mean it when they say

‘See you later’

See you later

The pockets of the overcoat are all sewn up

To stop the snow from filling them

To stop the snow from weighing you down

Cause you don’t need the purity of winter

Encroaching on your burden

It’s your Bob Dylan hair cut

It is what cuts me like a blade

But I still kiss your little mouth

And get slapped by the code of your first language

Yours was ‘Yours Sincerely’

Tho I was always very careful

One Man he pulled at the belt

Another bit at the tongue

This is what the blues really are

A threesome in a hotel in a city

Where the sun is always hidden

By your Bob Dylan Hair cut

See you later…